Forgotten Prince
by MorbidCheese
Summary: AU In an assassination attempt, five-year-old Ling Yao is left in the desert to die. He struggles to find his way back to Xing, but unknowingly goes in the opposite direction. Towards Amestris.


**Forgotten Prince**

**Summary: AU In an assassination attempt, five-year-old Ling Yao is left in the desert to die. He struggles to find his way back to Xing, but unknowingly goes in the opposite direction. Towards Amestris.**

**AN: Okay... This might be a total mistake to start this... But I like Ed/Ling Bromance. It's like, my BroTP. And I had this really weird dream where some-freaking-how Ling was living with the Elrics before Trisha died. Ling and Ed were bros. Al and Ling were bros. Ed and Al were bros. It was great. So, the idea just **_**won't leave me alone.**_** And it forced me to write this. I'm sorry if it sucks.**

/././././././././

A masked man looked down at the unconscious black-haired child before him. His breath was slow and even, signaling his deep sleep. The break in had gone exactly as planned. Old Man Fu had been a problem; they needed to do it on a day when he wasn't in his home. So they had sent a fake summon from the emperor to lure him away. The summon included strict commands to leave the Prince he was guarding behind. The old man had not been happy about that, as expected, but could not directly defy his ruler. Reluctantly, he had tripled the outer guards, and given his granddaughter, the same young age as the Prince, orders not to leave the boy's side.

The outer guards were pitifully easy to maneuver around, and the girl had been almost equally easy to drug and bind. The boy was none the wiser. The man's kunai was perfectly posed above the child's neck, one swift downwards motion, and he'd be dead. And yet, he hesitated. He was an assassin of the Huang Clan, and he had been ordered to kill the Yao heir; he couldn't back out. Such a thing would dishonor himself and his ancestors.

But looking at the boy's vulnerable form...

He had a son. He had two children, one boy one girl. Looking at the Yao Prince, their faces swam into focus.

His kunai shook.

He made up his mind.

Shifting his position, the man let his hand fall.

/././././././././

Surely, leaving him in the desert was the same as killing him. Right? Really, with no food or water, and a sluggishly bleeding gash on his arm, the boy would not make it far.

At least, that was what the assassin told himself.

He went as far in as possible with his eight hour time limit. His camel was fast, and it was the middle of the night. They made good ground. The masked man bundled himself to ward off the biting desert chill, and, after a moment, wrapped the skinny, now drugged, ebony with his extra blanket. It wasn't much, but it was all he had. At least the boy didn't shiver as much now.

The masked man tried to convince himself that giving the boy the blanket was only for a self-serving reason: the Yao heir's shivers were making him uncomfortable. But, the truth was, he felt guilty. He hadn't even bothered to learn the boy's first name when he took the mission, and now he was killing him in cold-blood. All he information he had bothered to get was that the Yao heir was male, five-years-old, and had black hair. This boy... He looked so young, so innocent.

He didn't deserve this. But the masked man had no choice but to kill him. A voice in the man's head pointed out, sadly, that killing him back at Fu's house would have been easier, quicker, with less pain. He wouldn't die of sun-stroke or dehydration or starvation, and his last moments wouldn't be in agony.

But the naive part of him pressed with how he just _couldn't. _He couldn't have the literal blood of a child that looked so much like his son on his hands. And, maybe, just maybe, the Yao heir would find his way out of the desert.

Such a slim chance.

When the sun began to rise, the man stopped his camel and dropped the child onto the sand.

He quickly looked away. The boy looked so much like his own.

The man forced himself not to look back, to gather the doomed boy into his arms, as he winced at how hot it already was.

/./././././././././

**Lookie there, guys. It's the first chapter of a story ****_that I don't have time to do. _****But seeing as this has wormed it's way into my skull, shredded my brain to make a bloody nest, and has stayed there, I'll be doing this. I hope you like the prolouge/first chapter thing. **

**I would appreciate a review or two! :D Just to let me know if this has some potential... Thanks guys!**

**(PS. To all reading ****_Inertia _****or ****_Just an Average Day, _****I'm trying, guys, I really am. I just have a bit of writer's block, and the chapter writing process is going really slow... I'm sorry.)**


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